The Root Of His Misfortune
by Dream Charmer
Summary: In which Hibari gets acquainted with the bitter sting of rejection. Several times in a row.
1. Chapter 1

_Who_: Hibari and more or less everyone else.

_What_: gen/humor/character study. Canon.

_When_: present, compliant with everything that's been going on in the manga.

_Warnings_: none.

-/-

**Chapter 1**

(_in which Hibari makes sure there's enough discipline to go around_)

-/-

The summer sky was bright and almost unnaturally blue over Namimori, and the warmest of breezes was gently stirring the leaves of the old trees that lined the road, providing a semblance of shade without hiding the sun from view. The air was clear and warm and pleasant to breathe. Apart from a stray dog dozing peacefully near a half-empty garbage bin, its left ear jerking slightly as it listened to something in its sleep, the world appeared to be completely deserted.

Perched atop Hibari's right shoulder, Hibird was happily chirping its way through Namimori Hymn. Its feathers seemed golden in the sunlight, putting even expensive jewelery to shame. Other, unseen birds were answering it with trills of their own. The starting day promised to be full of nothing but slumbering boredom.

Hibari's face was set in what was not exactly a frown but came close – an expression many inhabitants of the town were familiar with, as well as one they had long since come to dread because it meant that the leader of the Disciplinary Committee had a problem, and that could only end badly - and not for him. Someone getting bitten to death or at least to the point where death began to look like the only possibly reprieve was the most common scenario. As a result, people tended to scuttle out of Hibari's way even on good days, for fear they might somehow miss the crucial moment when good made a switch and changed to bad.

Today, however, they needn't have bothered, because the sudden onslaught of spleen had nothing to do with them.

Hibari was having a problem with certain people's attitude – and it was saying a lot, because Hibari possessed an enormous attitude of his own which usually blotted out the rest of the world in his eyes and made ordinary folk wish they had cleaner shirts on and hadn't forgotten to brush their teeth before going out. Hibari had never consciously thought about it in this way, nor had he ever listed his personality as one of his weapons, but those around him certainly did, and tried to avoid him like a plague. It might have turned into a problem for someone more socially dependent and communicative, but Hibari simply took it in his stride and ticked it off as an added benefit. This way he had to waste much less time explaining why crowding together was a bad idea and what would happen to those who foolishly insisted on practicing it on his turf and especially in his presence. What they actually thought about him, or if his actions made them feel miserable and helpless was the last thing on his mind. _Caring_ and _considerate_ were two qualities that Hibari had never really got the hang of.

That being the case, it had taken him a while to realize there were people in the world whose opinion he couldn't afford to overlook and ignore. Worse, he had to stop, take it into account and then _deal_ with it. The last part was, in fact, the least digestible chunk of news Hibari had come across in years. He didn't have the knack of putting up with the stuff he disliked. He'd never really had a chance to get into the spirit of the thing. And never before had it occurred to him that he might encounter someone he wouldn't be able to bully.

It was astounding, and also rather frustrating, how suddenly there was a whole bunch of individuals of this inconvenient breed, hopping in and out of his life, and then back in again, like a pendulum, and as far as he could see, there was no getting rid of them.

They were all home to stay, so to speak.

And so far, he'd had no luck with them.

-/-

"So," Reborn said cheerfully as he sipped coffee from a very small white cup, which he held firmly in his right hand. The liquid was black and steaming hot and its smell was so offensively strong it was very nearly an independent existence. "What do you want, Hibari?"

Hibari took a step forward. He had found the baby on the roof of the school where he must have been waiting for Sawada Tsunayoshi and his noisy, crowding friends to come up and join him for lunch as soon as their well-deserved educational torments earned them a short respite. Hibari glanced at his wristwatch. It was well past midday and the lessons in the Namimori Middle School were in full swing, and no one would be going anywhere for the next sixteen minutes – unless, of course, they wanted to be severely disciplined.

But sixteen minutes should suffice for what he had in mind.

"Baby," he said, making sure he kept his eyes on Reborn all the time. The sly little thing had proven a hundred times that he could evaporate from the spot in a heartbeat, and while Hibari could respect a useful ability like that, he wasn't in the mood to comb through the entire school to find Reborn again. "I came here today to make you fulfill your promise."

"My promise?" Reborn's voice came slightly muffled by the cup he'd raised up to his lips again, a natural, perfectly innocent gesture, but Hibari would bet his prized tonfa on the fact that it'd only been done to hide amusement.

"Yes," Hibari repeated firmly and calmly. "The promise you made to me in the beginning. Before I even got that ring. Don't try to pretend you don't remember anything. I'm not going to believe it."

He knew Reborn was going to try and wriggle his way out again, much like he always did, be it by clever rationalization or fake memory loss. But today Hibari had come prepared and wasn't going to fall for the trick. It was high time the baby'd stopped his smartass scheming for a while and faced his own obligation like a man he was.

Or had been once upon a time. Or would be eventually. Whichever.

The truth was, Hibari could never quite make head or tails of the whole Arcobaleno business. The only thing he was absolutely sure about was that the timeline was royally screwed where the lot of them was concerned, and the ordinary rules obviously didn't apply. Why it'd happened this way was beyond him – he would find out sooner or later, of course, but it could wait – the really important thing for now was that although Reborn _looked_ like a child, he wasn't one, and that meant Hibari had every right to hold the kid-who-was-not-a-kid to his promise.

This time around, he was definitely going to get what he wanted, Hibari thought with the same sort of stony determination other people employ when they say words like "Attack!" and "Kill!". This time around he wouldn't allo–

"Ah, you mean the promise to fight you seriously. Of course, I remember that. I just thought you were talking about my promise to arrange your second fight with Mukuro, but my mistake. So what about it?"

Hibari had to make a conscious effort to stay focused and not waver. He certainly wanted to fight the damn illusionist, that useless cowardly cheater, if only because he owed it to himself to prove that his martial arts – and, more importantly, his principles and beliefs – were stronger and better than the fluctuations of the sick and unstable mind of the maniac who liked to call himself Rokudo Mukuro, whatever his real name was.

But Mukuro was well out of the prison now, so Hibari hardly needed Reborn's mysterious help to get him. His own resources would be more than enough to reach this goal. That ruled out the second promise as unnecessary.

Reborn seemed to have read his mind, an eerie and unsettling habit of his.

"Right, Hibari." he said in a voice that made it lambently clear that he was quite at ease and had not a worry in the world. "You seem to be serious about this. But I have to warn you that I have a lot on my plate to deal with, today, so I won't be able to spare you much time. Maybe you'd like to put our fight off till, say, tomorrow? Or next week?"

"You have nothing on your plate right now," Hibari replied coolly. He didn't have to be bright as a supernova to understand Reborn was having a great deal of fun at his expense. "You don't even have a plate. You are perfectly idle."

"Not at all. I'm drinking coffee."

"That's what I call idle."

"Hm." Reborn smiled at him over the rim of the cup. "In that case I can see how I have no other option but to try and fit you into my busy schedule. But let me tell you one more thing."

"By all means do." Hibari slid out his tonfa, readying himself for a truly worthy fight. Biting to death an Arcobaleno was going to be an experience unlike any other.

"The danger," Reborn said, and there was a lecturing note that Hibari found to be completely uncalled for. "The danger may come from an unexpected direction. Make sure you don't forget this when we fight, because I'm going to start without a warning."

Hibari paused, frowning slightly, but not letting Reborn out of his sight regardless. What the...?

"_The danger may come from an unexpected direction_?" he repeated, disbelief and disappointment lacing his voice. "What kind of advice is this?"

"A useful one. I would even go as far as to say it's priceless."

"You must be confusing me with Sawada," And wasn't that absolutely insulting? "He's the one who can't walk straight and needs to be reminded about the basics every day, not me."

That impish smile grew wider still. "If you say so, Hibari. By the way, you haven't blinked once since we started talking. Your eyes must be hurting."

Instinctively, Hibari blinked. "Wha –?"

There was a coffee cup coming straight at him, hurtling through the air at a speed that left no room for thought and careful consideration of various options, like a train that'd got derailed and was now heading toward the edge of a very sheer cliff. It was, as far as Hibari could estimate, still at least half-filled with the liquid that couldn't possibly have gone cold yet, and it was aimed right at his face. In the background of his mind, part of him actually admired Reborn's skill and precision and admitted that he couldn't have done it better himself.

The rest of his mind was saying, _now my eyes are really going to hurt_. And there was no time left to dodge the impromptu missile.

Not that it mattered, of course.

In one swift movement, Hibari brought forward his left hand, shattering the cup in mid-air with the end of the tonfa. The shards flew in every direction, zigzagging and breaking into even more pieces, forcing him to duck out of harm's way to protect his eyes.

He straightened up, ready to face any attack that the cunning Arcobaleno might launch at him and –

– and Reborn wasn't there anymore.

Quickly, Hibari scanned the roof, taking in every little detail, searching for the slightest shadow of a motion, anything that might give him a hint; because it wasn't the first time Reborn used this tactic. It was only to be expected, really, it was all down there with the basics – obscuring one's opponent vision in order to win extra time and relocate, thus gaining advantage...

Was it just him, or had someone just moved behind him? Had it been a gust of wind or was someone creeping up on him to land a blow on the back of his head perhaps?

_the danger may come from an unexpected direction_

Hibari whirled around and struck out with his right hand, not bothering to put in all of his strength, but making sure that smug baby would_ feel_ the fight was no laughing matter and quit fooling around.

There was a definite sensation of his tonfa connecting with the target, followed by a slightly squelching sound, as if a bag of mud had been dropped down on the floor and stepped on.

Hibari stopped.

He was facing the door that led from the roof onto the staircase and back down into the corridors of the school building, and it was open. In the doorframe stood Yamamoto Takeshi and Gokudera Hayato, both of their faces frozen in the mixed expression of horror and bewilderment. Yamamoto was holding a sandwich someone had already had taken a bite from, and Gokudera had a cigarette dangling limply from between his teeth and a lighter in his hand.

On the floor at their feet lay in a crumpled heap Sawada Tsunayoshi. His right leg was twisted at a rather unnatural angle to his body, his hair was an even greater mess that usually, and his mouth was agape, which resulted in an expression that would have won him the Biggest Idiot Competition any day, if only Sawada hadn't been such a loser he lost at any competition at all, including those for losers.

He seemed, for want of a better term, unconscious. One side of his face, though, looked rather wrong. In fact, it was getting more and more swollen by the moment, as if he'd been hit by something hard, like a tonfa, for example.

There was no sight of Reborn anywhere.

It was going to become awkward real soon.

"What the hell!" Gokudera was the first to come back to life and get a hold of his voice which he immediately used to shout. "Hibari! What the hell have you done to the Tenth! Why did you try to kill him, you bastard!"

"Why did you have to hit Tsuna like this, Hibari?" Yamamoto was also back in the land of vaguely coherent people. "Did you have an argument or what?"

Hibari considered the situation at hand and groped for something appropriate to say. He cast another good, long look at the surrounding scenery, and the realization dawned.

A number of rules appeared to have been broken.

"Lying on the floor is forbidden," he snapped, happy to be back in his own territory again. This was the type of situation he knew how to handle. "Being out on the roof during lesson time is also forbidden," he added contentedly, glancing at his watch. Three minutes yet to go till the lesson was over. "What are you three doing here when you're supposed to be studying?"

"It was canceled, you aggressive moron!" Gokudera's face color changed rapidly from pale to pink, then to red and was now well past that stage and heading off bravely toward crimson. "The professor has got a cold!"

Ah. Well, he couldn't have possibly known about this.

"Smoking is _strictly_ prohibited," Hibari pointed out vindictively, his eyes settling on the cigarette still held by Gokudera. "I'm going to punish you for disrupting the discipline in Namimori."

"What!" Gokudera threw the cigarette down in outrage and used the hand to make a fist and shake it at Hibari. "You've just gone and hit the Tenth for nothing and you're the one spouting shit about discipline?"

"Okay, okay, don't fight." Yamamoto had managed to lift Sawada's lifeless body from the floor and slung him across his shoulders. "I'm sure it's a misunderstanding or something like that, right, Hibari? No way it can be anything else, really. Eh, yes?"

"Are you blind as well as stupid, baseball idiot? He's just tried to kill the Tenth! Look at him, he's not even denying it!"

"Haha! That's Hibari, you know. He's just, you know, probably he was just really, really busy here with something, and we interrupted. Right? It's all an accident, right?"

Hibari appraised the idea. It was, he had to admit, marginally better than saying he'd made a fool of himself and knocked out the useless Sawada _and_ let the baby escape. Definitely an improvement.

"Make sure you clean your mess before you leave," he ordered, as he put away the tonfa and shouldered Gokudera aside to get onto the staircase. "Or you'll regret it."

He headed down the stairs, tuning out the indignant yells directed at his back. His head was full of Reborn's dirty trick. He was going to make the baby pay for that when they next met. He was going to force him to fight for real. He would make the little thing take him seriously. No one dared to treat him like this, not even Reborn, who was special. It was insulting and unacceptable.

And what the hell was wrong with the Arcobaleno, anyway? Why was he so averse to this match? Wasn't it perfectly natural to want to establish who was the strongest for once? Well, he would catch up with Reborn in due course, that he had no doubt about. Whatever his real goals and plans for the future, the Arcobaleno was bound to keep orbiting around Sawada for a long, long time if he really nurtured a hope to make a mafia boss out of him – or even a slightly less pathetic human being, for that matter. There was no need to hurry.

Meanwhile, there were other people he wanted to bite to death. They were here, in Namimori. In _his_ Namimori.

He couldn't wait.

* * *

><p>AN: it occurred to me that I had no story about Hibari, despite the fact that I like him a lot, so I set out to change that. It's going to be a multi-chapter, but not a very long one. Not like the other one, no.=)

Anyway, please drop me a review! I'd really appreaciate that, and I want to know what you think :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_**(**in which there's enough education even for Hibari)_

-/-

"Eh? What, now? You really want to do it now?"

"Certianly." Hibari couldn't see what was so hard to understand about his wish to fight that everyone got freaked out as soon as the subject was mentioned. It annoyed him. "Now is the perfect moment to put an end to our argument. No one is around to interfere."

The look of painful concentration on Dino's face showed very clearly that the cogs and wheels in his head were spinning and turning furiously, trying to process the request. After a long moment of suspense, the system arrived at the conclusion that it didn't have enough resources and gave up.

"You can't be serious, Kyouya. We can't fight, not here and now."

"Why is that?" Hibari had to make a conscious effort to quell his irritation. He knew it was better to equip himself with patience, seeing how it was beyond Dino to take the fastest route to the right decision from the start – he always had to wander about in circles first; but with the Reborn fiasco still fresh in his memory, Hibari was finding it hard to put up with any more ridiculous antics.

"Well, for one thing, I have work to do..."

"Work? You?" Hibari didn't even bother to hide his contempt at the notion.

"You say it like you think I'm useless."

"Then fight and prove me wrong," said Hibari irritably, snapping out his tonfa.

He had noticed the lack of surprise in Dino's voice, and he didn't sound hurt or resentful either. If anything, he appeared to be rather amused.

The smug herbivore was having fun. And at Hibari's expense, no less.

Hibari knew better than to engage in a discussion regarding the hypothetical usefulness of Dino Cavallone though. It was an idea with no future, and the reasons were many. First of all, Hibari wasn't exactly one for words, nor did he consider it a flaw, being conviced as he was that talking was a pointless activity unworthy of a serious individual. Besides, it was impossible to outclass Dino in the lowly art of verbal communication. He talked faster than he thought, was completely incapable of sticking to the same topic for longer than a minute, looped back and forth and contradicted himself every five seconds and, worst of all, harboured a misplaced belief that he was good at metaphors. From his own bitter experience, Hibari could recall that once he allowed the conversation to veer away from the subject, it'd never get back on track, and he'd drown in a sea of empty words and vague theoretic assumptions.

He stayed silent.

"In case you've forgotten," said Dino hopefully, "I'm currently employed as an English teacher in Namimori Middle School."

Hibari knew that, of course, although he had his doubts about the quality of this so-called teaching. Anyway, he couldn't see what it had to do with Dino's refusal to fight.

"Students expect me to attend my own lessons. And correct their mistskes, and give them back their homework."

Hibari graciously refrained from pointing out that so far, the students seemed to spend more time picking Dino up from the floor after he tripped over his own feet than studying grammar.

"Wouldn't it disrupt the discipline if you left the kids without a teacher when the exams are coming? And here I thought you cared for the school, Kyouya." There was a ghost of a mocking smile tugging at the corners of his lips now.

Hibari scoffed. Even the herbivore couldn't possibly believe he would fall such a cheap trick.

"So you admit you'd lose to me if we were to fight?"

"Look, Kyouya, I don't see why we have to fight at all. We're hardly enemies, whatever you may think of me." Suddenly, Dino no longer seemed amused. Instead, a tired, borderline desperate expression spread across his features, making him look, if only momentarily, as if he were ten years older and much less stupid and harmless. To Hibari, it was an oddly familiar sight, an expression out of a memory of a dream; of a future that had been irrevocably erased and would never come to pass now.

He was almost taken back. Almost. But he recovered quickly.

"I fight when I want to," he replied calmly, bringing up a tonfa. "I decide that myself."

"Yeah, I remember. I've been meaning to talk to you about that, you know."

"You talk too much."

"Only because I'm still waiting for a proper answer," Dino shot back.

"Well, what else is there to talk about?"

"It would be nice if you explained why you had to do it, for starters."

Hibari sighed. He had always known that most people were not exactly bright, but some, like Dino, at least gave the impression of being marginally capable of coherent thinking. It was annoying that even that was apparently nothing more than a misconception. What was the point of repeating the same stupid question again and again?

"I have already explained it twice – I fight when I choose to fight and who I choose to fight. I'm not going to blindly follow any ridiculous rules if they become an inconvinience. I don't even know who is that guy who invented them and this whole game, and you don't either. The rest of you herbivores can obey if you like, but I won't."

"But we're not obeying the rules because we enjoy it, Kyouya. It's because we all want to help lift the curse of the Arcobaleno."

"I'm not an Arcobaleno." Hibari shrugged dismissively. "The curse is not my problem."

"Sure, but... " Dino hesitated briefly, as if wanting to say something and then deciding against it. He rubbed his right hand across his face, and because he had been holding a pen in that hand, a great big smudge of ink appeared on his forehead. "What about you agreement with Fong?"

"What about it?" Hibari eyed the smudge but said nothing. It was none of his business.

"Well, you broke your promise, didn't you?"

"It wasn't a promise. I agreed to fight for him because he said he'd fight _me_ once the curse was dispelled."

"Yes, I heard that." Dino still appeared to be struggling with the concept for some reason. "What made you change your mind?"

Hibari wondered if the guy was pretending to be an idiot on purpose.

"I wanted to bite to death the orangutan from the Varia," he replied with annoyance.

"The oran– oh, you mean Xanxus."

"Yes. And he wanted to fight too." _For once_, Hibari thought with some bitterness but didn't say. He was aware that Xanxus, while very fond of fighting if he was in the appropriate mood, still liked sleeping much better. It was impossible to say if another chance like that would present itself. "You lot shouldn't have interfered." He added in an accusatory tone. He had a score to settle with Xanxus, dating back to the Ring Conflict, and he wasn't going to forget it in a hurry.

Actually, maybe he should have another go, while the Varia were still crowding in the Namimori Hotel? They wouldn't stay forever – which was a good thing because no one wanted them around – but once they boarded the plane back to Italy, off would go his chance to finally bite Xanxus to death.

"You have to stop being so reckless, Kyouya." Dino's voice cut through Hibari meditations and produced the most unpleasant effect.

"_Reckless_?"

"You didn't really expect me to stand aside and watch you get killed?"

Hibari's eyes narrowed. This tone, full of patient weariness, like that of a mother talking to a naughty child, was the thing he hated the most in Dino.

"Killed? Me?"

"Come on, Kyouya." Dino scratched his cheek tiredly and smeared more ink across his face. "I know you don't want to hear this, but it's true. Xanxus would have defeated you if the time hadn't run out."

"Says the guy who runs from every threat," Hibari snapped, now getting seriously angry.

Deep down, he admitted that he had underestimated the Varia's chimpanzee, weird though it might seem. He had mistaken Xanxus' laziness and apathy for a lack of strength. It wasn't a mistake he commited often, and he knew it might have cost him a lot, and it rankled; but it didn't mean Dino, of all people, was allowed to lecture him on the subject. Definitely not Dino. The herbivore whose response to any danger was to try and talk his way out of it had to shut up. He had no right.

Unfortunately, Dino wasn't inclined to stay quiet. He had already assumed the hateful it's-for-your-own-good disposition.

"I understand that you'd like to eh, bite to death, as you so eloquently put it, as many people as possible," he said. "But you can't fight everything and everyone, and sometimes you're going to meet someone stronger than you. Don't glare at me like that, I'm only telling the truth... Just because you don't care whether your opponents live or die as long as they're defeated doesn't mean everyone else thinks the same way."

"What are you getting at?" asked Hibari impatiently.

"If I hadn't interfered, Xanxus would have shot your head off, that's what." Oddly enough, Dino now seemed angry as well, which was puzzling because he, in Hibari's opinion, had no reason whatsoever to be displeased. He hadn't had his long-awaited battle interrupted. "You fight because you like fighting, Kyouya, but Xanxus only fights to win. That's just how he is and that's why he fights dirty and kills easily."

"I can already see that you're afraid of the orangutan and his scary black guns." Hibari allowed himself a moment of smug mockery. "But I don't care about all that. You can save your breath and keep the rest of your lecture for your underlings. I will choose my opponents myself. If I decide to fight the monkey again, I will."

There was a pause. It stretched and stretched, and Dino was looking at Hibari with a mixed expression of bewilderment, irritation and... pity? Hibari's insides churned. He hated being pitied.

Then, at the moment when the silence was beginning to get almost unbearable, Dino spoke.

"You never listen, do you? You never listen to anyone." He looked more like he was talking to himself, rather than Hibari. "It's not about your fight with Xanxus, it's about... "Another pause followed; a much shorter one; and then Dino snapped. "Well, it's about me not wanting to bury my pupil! I'm allergic to funerals! Are you going to fight the Vindice too, all alone because you hate _crowding_? Do you maybe think you can kick their asses, all by yourself?"

Hibari said nothing. He had been pondering the situation with the Vindice, true, and had been mildly disappointed they hadn't bothered to visit him, but even he had discarded the idea of seeking the fight himself after a short while. Of course if they attacked him first, he would think twice about it, but not the other way round. At least not yet.

Still, discussing the Vindice wasn't why he'd come looking for Dino. He'd come because he had intended to bully the guy into fighting, but now he was no longer in the mood. The air in the room was heavy with the words that remained unsaid and the many insults they had both been ready to fling at each other's faces, but stopped at the last moment. Hibari hated it and blamed it all on Dino – only the herbivore was capable of spoiling everything with a couple of words and making it appear like he was a saint who worried himself sick about other people's safety. And Hibari didn't want to be fussed over. It was humiliating.

Besides, Dino now looked too ridiculous to take him seriously.

Hibari watched him realize that he was all dirty and covered with ink and go red in the face – well, in what was visible of his face, anyway. He tried to wipe his hands clean on something and, since there was nothing that might serve the purpose nearby, ended up using his own pants as a towel, with the obvious result. He cursed in Italian – a string of rhythmic sounds that Hibari, who patriotically believed Japanese was enough for anyone, didn't understand. He started to look around and knocked a glass of water off the table.

"Oh shit!" Dino exclaimed as the glass hit the floor and shattered. "What's up with me today, I keep breaking things and falling on my face... Eh, Kyouya?"

Hibari had already turned on his heel and began to walk away. Even discounting the previous conversation, he could never make himself fight someone so pathetic. It would be way too degrading. It didn't mean he had given up on his plan to bite the Cavallone boss to death, but it would have to wait. Maybe next time he would first make sure there were enough of Dino's underlings loitering around. They would be crowding, sure, but the herbivore's motor functions would improve. He'd have to mull over the possibilities again; perhaps in the evening.

But for now, there were others who wouldn't waste his time talking. He'd better deal with them first.

* * *

><p>NA: Hibari just has no luck, the poor guy.:) There'll be another chapter.

Please review! :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_(in which the terrible power of the written word comes into play)_

-/-

It was yet another wonderful Sunday, mostly due to the fact that, for once, the weather lived up to the hopes of the majority of the population and rearranged itself into a perfect combination of temperature, humidity and sunshine. It hadn't gone unnoticed by the inhabitants of Namimori, who immediately proceeded to bundle up kids, blankets and lunch baskets and speed out of town in search of a leftover piece of untouched nature. By midday, the streets were almost completely deserted safe for a few lonely losers, drooping around the corners because no one wanted to invite them anywhere, and Hibari Kyouya, who had a highly complicated relationship with Sundays and holidays of all sorts.

Technically speaking, Hibari wasn't out in the streets, of course. It was too hot and dusty there, and besides, it appeared that the members of the Disciplinary Committee were doing just fine on their own. They were presumably quite busy, patrolling the town and ensuring that nobody got any clever ideas and decided, for example, that this was the kind of morning to indulge in a bit of good ole burglary.

There would be no burglary in Namimori unless Hibari authorized it. That was what the order and discipline were all about, things being kept under control by someone who knew right from wrong and wasn't afraid to stand their ground in times of trouble. It was a lamentable fact that the whole pool of someones who fitted the criteria consisted of Hibari alone, but life was never supposed to be all roses and rainbows.

Lying on his back on the sunlit terrace of the old house that used to belong to his parents and which he now occupied alone, Hibari launched another valiant attack on the book he had been trying to read for over three hours now. It was high time he'd made some progress with it, after all.

Unfortunately, so far, he'd been unable to get past the prologue.

It wasn't his fault though. He certainly wasn't stupid. It was simply ridiculous that anyone could have been allowed to compose a volume that weighed more than a brick and contained over four hundred pages of text. Any message that required so many useless words to get across simply meant that the author had a uniquely undisciplined mind and an unhealthy excess of free time on his hands – two qualities that could result in nothing worthy of Hibari's attention. Less talk, more do; that was the proper way.

The accursed book originated from the library – not the public one, certainly, that was for students and housewives – but from Hibari's personal collection of books which he'd inherited from his parents along with the house itself, as well as a great deal of other things, including a significant amount of money; his father's infatuation with the order; and, in the backyard, a small garden of miniature bonsai trees. Hibari was still in two minds about that last one, and while he cogitated, Kusakabe had been appointed responsible for cultivating it. After all, no one could predict Hibari's final decision, and it was better to be safe than sorry.

The library occupied the largest of the eight rooms and consisted mainly of two types of books: those meant for reading (old, tattered, occasionally with a missing page) and those bought for the sole purpose of _being there_. The books of the second type were all beautiful and had a richly decorated, sometimes gilded, cover. They were in perfect condition, because very few people ever get excited when faced with a philosophical treaty five hundred pages long and with no plot or dialogue whatsoever to speak of. No one had as much as attempted to open them.

No one except for Hibari. And he was already regretting it.

He closed the book firmly and put it away. The were other matters that required careful thinking in his life, highly important matters he had to attend to.

And after all, didn't they say there was no time like the present?

-/-

A plaintive sound came from under Hibari's left foot. To a more imaginative pair of ears, it might have resembled the last dying squeak of an artificial mouse finally coming to realize it would never reach the much desired piece of artificial cheese; but Hibari, who wasn't given to useless fantasies – that was for people like Dino Cavallone – only bent down slightly and inspected the remains of an old, dirty plastic bottle he'd stepped on. Further examination revealed the origins of the bottle – once upon a time it used to contain yogurt.

Hibari didn't scowl, not exactly (it was only a measly bottle, after all) but, although his face remained unchanged, irritation bubbled in the back of his mind. No matter how minor a detail this might be, it annoyed him. It appeared, above all, to indicate that already this particular endeavor of his was off to a bad start; and it also reminded him of how being careless could easily cost him his life. And the bitter truth was that he did seem to become more and more careless lately, otherwise Reborn wouldn't be able to trick him and the Varia monkey wouldn't have managed to come so dangerously close to killing him – yes, that was the word, he had to face it – and for the second time in a row, too. That alone, that disquieting tendency, truly rankled. He had been lucky so far, but there was nothing that Hibari despised more in the world than the idea that he might owe his wellbeing, his life, his _anything_ to dumb luck and, in one unfortunate case, to Dino Cavallone.

He couldn't even decide which was worse. They were both unpredictable and hectic, and Hibari wanted to have as little to do with them as he could. The fact that he now had an outstanding debt to Dino left a sour taste in his mouth and made him come very close to fuming. It was humiliating. It was plainly unacceptable. Hibari Kyouya would not drag some stupid moral obligation behind him like a sack of rotten potatoes, he would pay Dino back as soon as the circumstances allowed, and then he would find a way and pay the orangutan back too, although in a different way, because it was now twice that he'd been made to look like a fool by the Varia boss, and he wouldn't stand for it. He would figure it out, somehow and settle the score once and for all.

But before he properly concentrated on those things, there was another person out there who had long since been number one on Hibari mental To-Bite List.

Rokudo Mukuro. The sleazy coward.

All yogurts in the world and all regrets forgotten, Hibari straightened up. This time, he wouldn't give the illusionist even a sliver of opportunity to get away. This time, he wouldn't be taken in by clever wordplay that Mukuro was undoubtedly going to use on him. This time around, he would most definitely have his battle and no one would stand in his way.

Hands already itching to take out the tonfa, he resumed walking, carefully weaving his way through the rubble toward the main building of what used to be the Kokuyo Land Amusement Park and which now served as a den for Mukuro and his gang of misfits.

It was a pathetic and disgusting sight, truly it was, and one glance at it made Hibari want to bite to death whatever negligent herbivore was responsible for the territory – it was clearly a disaster and a health-hazard, what with its walls, dark and slimy; its empty windows; unidentifiable pieces of brick and old plaster falling off it with a dull thud whenever a gust of wind hit it a bit too hard; and all manner of rusty metal parts sticking out of the ground around it. In short, it was begging to be demolished. If it wasn't done soon, it would crumble down anyway. One didn't have to be an expert to make that conclusion, not in this case. This one was obvious and let its pitiful state speak, or rather, scream for itself.

Later, Hibari promised to himself as he strode toward the gaping black hole that marked the entrance to the building, after he was finished here, he would see to it that the former Kokuyo Land was taken care of and turned into something more befitting of his Namimori. _That_ he wouldn't tolerate any longer. It was an abomination and it only made sense that people like Rokudo Mukuro had come and made a nest inside. Vermin always bred in places like that – forgotten, abandoned places that no one else wanted; and nothing but trouble ever came of it.

Hibari wasn't going to let it go on like this. He would uphold the standards, even if the rest were all pathetic no-good losers that couldn't prioritize if their miserable existence depended on it.

But first, the cowardly herbivore was to be dispatched and cast into oblivion. The vermin had to be exterminated. Preferably forever.

Feeling perfectly self-assured and resolved, Hibari entered the building, stepping over the old door that had long since fallen off its hinges and by the looks of it, had been peacefully rotting away for the better part of the decade. Several big wasps flew from under it and zoomed around Hibari's head angrily, only to be ignored. As he ducked into the darkness, they didn't follow.

Inside, the air was still and damp and had an unpleasant tinge to it, a hint of sourness, perhaps, like water gone bad. It smelled of silent things that grew in the dark, away from sun and warmth. It was colder too – almost chilling after the summer heat that rolled over the country outside in lazy undulating waves.

A lesser man might be intimidated. Hibari Kyouya pressed on calmly, ignoring the disgusting squelching sound that something under his boots produced as he walked over it. He didn't pause to look what exactly it was though, and not only because he didn't want to lose any more time. A suspicion was creeping up on him that whatever it was, it had been alive before it found itself being mercilessly squashed; and nothing that chose to inhabit that hell was bound to be good-looking. Rokudo Mukuro was another proof of that.

As Hibari made his way toward the main stairs, he kept an eye open for hidden traps of any kind – wires positioned specifically to sever the head of a careless intruder, holes in the floor, covered by rotten planks of wood or dirty cloth, anything that a sick mind of a person afraid of a fair fight might come up with. He found nothing. The silence was that of any decaying construction; a sleepy silence made of a million tiny noises – rats scurrying away on their business inside the walls, plaster peeling off and falling down on the floor, water dripping from the rafters n the nearby corridor, wood creaking, birds chirping faintly outside. There was nothing at all suspicious going on. Kokuyo Land appeared to be devoid of human presence.

Quite unexpectedly, Hibari found himself missing Hibird and wishing he had remained in Namimori to read his father's boring old book. It might be full of stuff he couldn't even begin to understand or appreciate, but it was undoubtedly better than chasing ghosts of the past in a place that even Rokudo Mukuro seemed to have left for good.

Feeling slightly disconcerted, Hibari slowed down and, making another turn, came to a halt as yet another corridor opened before him.

He blinked.

He couldn't remember it.

Taking a deep breath, Hibari raked through the unpleasant memories of his stay in the Kokuyo Land and the subsequent final fight with Mukuro. He was sure that he knew the layout of the place quite well, and he had a good eye for detail; and his intuition kept telling him that this corridor couldn't be here.

Not only that – it simply couldn't be. At all.

For one thing, it certainly looked too long. A corridor that long wouldn't fit, at least not on this side. Had he gotten sidetracked and lost? It seemed impossible, but the building was asymmetrical, so maybe that was the reason. And it had windows – the whole row of them, glass unbroken if slightly dusty, sunlight streaming through, flooding the corridor with blinding brilliance. Could it be that he had wandered off the route he had intended to use and ended up where he hadn't been before?

Something moved at the other end of the corridor, an impossible distance away. Something white.

Hibari squinted. The light was so bright that it hurt his eyes and made them water. He wiped his face with a sleeve of his shirt and squinted again, trying to discern the details.

The movement repeated, and the place... _changed_. Later, when Hibari tried to remember that moment and put his finger on what exactly had happened, he would never be able to do so. The floor, the walls, the windows – all remained the same; and the flash of white at the other end didn't move away, nor did it come any closer. The distance didn't shorten. The sunlight was still pouring through.

But suddenly, without any obvious explanation, he could _see_.

At the opposite end of the corridor stood a girl, the whiteness he had seen but been unable to identify turning out to be her dress. A light, carefree sort of dress that women wore when they intended to do no real work and were dead set on being a nuisance.

He recognized the girl, though.

Chrome Dokuro.

Hibari's eyes turned to narrow slits. So that was how it was. Chrome Dokuro, an artificial life, an excuse for an independent existence. A marionette created by Mukuro on the ruins of a crippled body to pull the strings from the dungeons of the Vindice prison. A sad doll with a made-up name and a made-up future that no one but her believed would ever become reality.

She stood there, barefoot, arms hanging by her sides, an expression both sorrowful and unreadable.

It crept Hibari out that he could now see her face as clearly as if she were only a few paces away from him, when until a moment ago he'd been unable to tell it was a person at all. And neither of them had moved a muscle.

Ahhh. But of course. It was all an illusion. The damn corridor didn't truly exist in the Kokuyo Land, that was why he couldn't recognize it. It was probably a figment of Mukuro's imagination or a copy of a real place somewhere else entirely.

Only Chrome was real.

Well, it wasn't like he cared. If the girl was here, Mukuro, the bastard, must be as well. Hibari smirked.

"Did he send you here to meet me?" he asked, raising his voice enough to carry all across the distance. He doubted it was really necessary, seeing how they were inside the illusion, but who knew.

Chrome looked at him impassively – or looked right through him, it all seemed the same with her. Her lips moved.

"Please follow me." Then she turned and began to walk away.

"Hm."

Hibari hurried after her – the last thing he wanted right now was to let her disappear and find himself dashing around the decrepit place like an idiot, looking for her. He noted that she spoke quietly, almost inaudibly, which was her usual manner, but he heard her anyway. Another proof everything was fake around them.

He was going to get a lot of satisfaction out of beating up Mukuro. Hibari hated fakes.

The long corridor turned into a narrow passageway, which in turn ended up in a flight of stairs, winding up into the gray shadows that dissipated as Chrome began to ascend. Another corridor followed, wider this time, windowless but relatively clean; then they crossed an enfilade of rooms, where old toys mixed with shards of glass and crumpled cigarette packs littered the floor – a perfect symbol of a run-down amusement park.

Another staircase swam into view.

Hibari stopped, eyes boring holes in the girl's back.

"Where are you leading me?"

Not turning around, she beckoned for him to follow her.

"Come. Master is waiting for you."

"We're going in circles," Hibari said flatly, not moving from the spot. "Do you think I'm so dumb I won't notice that? And I know it isn't even real, so what's the meaning of this?"

She remained silent for a moment, then sighed. Or at least that was how it sounded.

"Please. Don't make Mukuro-sama wait."

Hibari decided he'd had enough. And _Mukuro-sama_ could wait as long as was necessary. In a split second, he closed the distance between himself and Chrome. His hand shot out, grabbing her thin wrist, and he spun her around to face him. She didn't resist at all, letting Hibari pull her near enough for him to see her every eyelash.

As she looked up at him, almost placidly, Hibari was reminded of another time when he held her like that – a time that, for him, was both in the past and in the future, a memory that he'd received from his older self. On that other occasion, he had helped to save her life after her precious Mukuro-sama was defeated by Byakuran and the link between them was cut, making her illusionary organs evaporate like morning dew. That gaze, that resignation to accept whatever fate was going to befall her, along with the feeling of her hand held in his was the same. She smelled faintly of something flowery – he could recognize that too. Only her breathing was not shallow now.

Still, she was helpless and useless, like before. And light, as if her bones were empty like a bird's.

A thought popped up in Hibari's head.

"Why are you here?" he asked, curiously. "Now that he's free, you two are no longer linked."

She said nothing, only stared up at him intently.

"Can't you go on without him now? What's in it for you?"

She gave a small sigh.

"Hey. Have you forgotten how to speak?"

Not answering his question, Chrome extended her free hand to the side and pushed the door open.

Hibari gave a start. Since when was there a door? He couldn't possibly have missed...

"Mukuro-sama... There."

Hibari let go off her wrist, all his attention focused on the door as it creaked slowly open. He gave it an additional push and stepped inside.

The room that lay beyond was... revoltingly ordinary. It even bore semblance to normal apartments inhabited by normal human beings. It had a low table with cushions strewn all around it, a bed, a couch, some chairs and a wardrobe, as well as a number of other, smaller items of furniture. It was all mismatched, but it was clearly a place used to live in, not an abandoned cave. There were clothes lying in a heap on top of the bed covers, and a lamp on the table was lit, happily illuminating unwashed dishes.

Of Mukuro there was no sign.

Hibari turned around to face Chrome, ready to demand an explanation.

"Just whe–"

Except that she was no longer there. The doorway was empty, and he was completely and utterly alone. The girl had disappeared.

Trying very hard to be rational and not get irritated, Hibari walked toward the door and peeked out. Where there used to be a misplaced staircase, there was now a shabby-looking wall. The corridor was the one he remembered with painstaking accuracy, except it was now slightly cleaner. No weird rooms or halls were to be seen anywhere.

So. The illusion had been dispelled. How nice. Which left open the main question: if someone was making those tricks – and obviously it was Mukuro himself – then where was the pathetic herbivore hiding?

Moving back into the room, Hibari cast another glance at its contents. Not that he really expected to find Mukuro under the bed, of course, but still. There may be a hint or a clue of some sort.

There had to be at least some sort of logic present, because whatever else Hibari might think of Mukuro, he didn't believe the illusionist to be an idiot.

As Hibari's gaze swept over the table, he noticed something lying there in the pool of yellow lamplight. He approached cautiously and peered down at it with a measure of suspicion.

A sheet of paper. A message? Or a trap? There was only one way to find out.

A feeling of unease stirring somewhere in the pit of his stomach, Hibari reached down and took it from among the dishes and began to read:

_Hibari Kyouya, my talented if slightly fixated friend,_

_If you're reading this, it means that yet again my observations have been proven correct, for I've expected you to come. Congratulations._

Hibari stared at the words in disbelief. Congratulations?

_As the hard facts stare me in the face, I find myself unable to deny that your persistence does indeed know no bounds. And neither does your impatience – to think that you would choose to come and pay me a visit in my humble abode immediately after you have been so uniquely unlucky with both the Arcobaleno Reborn and Dino Cavallone. I sincerely applaud you spirit and willpower. Hold on to these useful qualities and treasure them – through experience (although not mi own) I know that it may be occasionally possible to use them instead of practicality and intellect with the minimum difference in the ending result. Quite a cause for celebration, isn't it?_

Hibari inhaled deeply, suddenly overcome by the memory of the book he'd left back home. This... this whatever written by Mukuro seemed to have been taken straight out of it or at least composed by the same hateful herbivore who had an incurable case of verbal diarrhea and seemed – to Hibari's great chagrin – unable to stop writing.

People like that deserved to be executed on the spot for disrupting the mental discipline and inner harmony of those around them. Well, at the very least they had to be taught a lesson and put under arrest.

He reread the paragraph. Then he reread it again, slowly, letting the implications sink in. He didn't like them one bit.

The letter went on:

_Regardless, I believe that by now, I have a sufficiently decent insight into your infinitely fascinating personality which has enabled me to foresee your visit and leave you this note in hopes that this way, you will not take it personally and will not be discouraged from seeking my company – it is a thought that gives me a warm fuzzy feeling I would absolutely loath to lose._

Hibari's right hand clenched around the handle of the tonfa. He wished dearly there were a skull to crack around, preferably one adorned with a ridiculous pineapple-shaped haircut.

_But back to business. I assure you, I deeply regret being unable to come out and greet you in person. However, we are currently very busy with the affair known to you as the Battle of Representatives. My boss watch is still intact and I feel obliged to continue. Also, this pathetic little tournament has turned out to contain some people who are very special to me – the Vindice. We have a relationship that dates further back than ours, so kindly forgive me for choosing them over you for the moment. I do have to stick to my own priorities_.

Hibari's gaze grew icy cold as his eyes followed the neat lines scribbled by Mukuro. Was the illusionary bastard telling him he could only rank second-best in this infuriating roundabout way? If he was...

_Don't let it upset you, though. I know why you have come and what you want; and after I'm done with my current duties, I will be happy to give the old carousel another ride and beat you up like I did back when we first met. Ten or maybe fifteen minutes in the unlikely case that we get carried away should suffice. And we could have a sakura themed setting, I think. I know you like it. Not to mention it would be fitting, considering the reason behind your fanatic desire to have a rematch with me._

The memory of the humiliation he had once suffered at the hands of Mukuro came back in a rush, complete with the slow, soundless cascade of illusionary cherry blossoms, eerie and out of place within the shabby, decaying confines of that building; and Mukuro's soft mocking voice, explaining and explaining things he couldn't care less about all over again; and the bittersweet taste of his own blood in his mouth – the taste of defeat and helplessness and fruitless anger. Hibari gritted his teeth.

The letter continued:

_Again, I will allow myself to hope that my little show has not led you to believe that I am avoiding you – quite the opposite, I would very much like to meet you again, but as this seems to be impossible at the moment, I've decided to at least entertain you with a bit of illusion. To justify myself, I will reiterate that I did my best with it. Did you like it? Wasn't the Chrome you saw quite real to all your senses? _

A sudden chill ran down Hibari's spine. It was a sensation he had only experienced several times in his whole life; one only a couple of days ago when he saw Xanxus' eyes when the orangutan prepared to shoot him dead in a fight that he hadn't even been taking seriously.

An instinct, the infamous sixth sense, perhaps, was shrieking that he had to pay attention, that something sinister was going on.

_However reluctant I may be to admit it, professor Verde knows his job. We're still quite far from being able to create an illusion that would last for any significant amount of time, but we're definitely improving. But one day, my dear dim-witted opponent, we may yet get a chance to have some proper fun. I am going to give you all the illusions in the world to fight and they will be so real, you won't even know the difference because there would be none. Just you wait._

_For now, though, run along and play with someone else._

-/-

"Hibari-san! Everything is in order in Namimori! No suspicious activities have been noticed."

Hibari turned his head ever so slightly, letting his eyes settle on Kusakabe.

"Good," was all he said as he waited for the man to take his leave.

"Will there be any other orders for today, Hibari-san?"

"No."

"Did you own plan go well, Hibari-san?"

"Yes."

Sometimes Kusakabe seemed so thick-headed that it made Hibari wonder if the man was doing it on purpose.

"I will be going then, Hibari-san. With you permission."

"Go."

As the door slid shut behind his subordinate, Hibari waited a few more seconds, then extracted Mukuro's letter out of his pocket and unfolded it.

Why had he taken it with him? Really, he could have just thrown it away.

_I am going to give you all the illusions in the world to fight and they will be so real, you won't even know the difference because there would be none._

This was supposed to make him happy, wasn't it? Happy and eager for a truly fantastic fight. And yet he felt nothing of the sort. On the contrary, he felt uneasy, as if he had somehow managed to crack open the forbidden door and steal a glance at the future that promised things he didn't want to see.

He remembered the illusionary Chrome again – she had seemed so real at the time. And she was there on her own, a product of Mukuro's imagination and whatever scientific breakthrough Verde had made. She had acted alone, almost but not quite independently. And he had been unable to tell that she was a fake. There was no difference at all.

A lesser man might shiver. Hibari Kyouya did not, of course. Instead, he folded the letter and put it into the book he was still trying to read, marking the page (the prologue seemed to go on forever). He didn't actually believe he would ever need it, but he was quite certain that he wasn't looking forward to the future where illusions became indistinguishable from reality. In fact, if he could put a stop to that scheme, he would. It reeked of madness more terrible than anything five Byakurans could inflict on the world and, most importantly, on his Namimori.

He also realized that he no longer wanted to challenge any of his mafia _acquaintances_ to a fight. He didn't want to know what Cavallone really hid behind that stupid facade of his; or if Xanxus was truly capable of cold-blooded mass-murder. And the Arcobaleno's secrets could very well remain secrets until the time was ripe.

It wasn't like he lacked practice, anyway. There were always plenty of fighting going on.

Some things were better left sleeping, and the longer it took them to float up to the surface, the better.

* * *

><p>NA: yesss, the end. It was fun writing Hibari even though he doesn't get much character development in the series (weird that, him being one of the main cast).

Thanks for reading and please tell me what you think - your reviews make my day! :)


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